


I'm a Damsel (I'm in Distress)

by celeste9



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: 5 Times, Canon-Typical Violence, Damsels in Distress, Drunkenness, Fluff and Humor, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Star Wars: The Last Jedi, Pre-Star Wars: The Force Awakens, Rescue, Shippy Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-23
Updated: 2018-06-23
Packaged: 2019-05-27 13:03:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15025175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celeste9/pseuds/celeste9
Summary: For whatever reason, Poe becomes something of an expert at being carried around by people.Five times Poe got bridal carried, and one time he was intentionally dropped.





	I'm a Damsel (I'm in Distress)

**Author's Note:**

> For the kink meme prompt: Poe/any, 5 times Poe was carried bridal style by different people
> 
> I may have cheated slightly because there were too many characters to choose from, lol. Can be as shippy or not-shippy as you like. Title from Hercules. (I think? I've never actually seen it.)

  1. _Han and Chewbacca_



The planet was spinning. The whole planet. And not, like, in orbit, like it was supposed to. It was just spinning.

Poe leaned heavily onto Han, stumbling, until Han swept him up in the air, one arm below his knees and the other behind Poe’s back. He grunted a little and the planet spun more severely as Poe left his feet.

“What,” Poe said, blinking.

“Told you not to have what he was having,” Han said.

Chewbacca, looking down at Poe, agreed in Shyriiwook and added something about the fragile constitutions of small humans.

Poe sprawled more limply in Han’s grip. “You’re carrying me.”

“Should’ve let you fall on your ass, would’ve served you right. Bet your dad would agree.”

Most likely. “Leia would be mad at you. Leia likes me.”

“Leia,” Han said, “would agree that you’re a dumb kid who should know better than to try to keep up with a Wookiee.”

“She likes me,” Poe mumbled, gazing up at the sky. It didn’t seem to spin so much when he focused on the stars. “You like me, too.”

Chewbacca confirmed that, with an addition that Poe didn’t quite catch.

“You’ve got a big mouth,” Han said, though whether that was directed at Chewie or at Poe was questionable. “You’re heavy, kid, and I’m old,” he then declared before unceremoniously passing Poe over to Chewbacca, who grumbled but easily took Poe into his arms.

“Hey,” Poe protested weakly before discovering that actually, this seemed ideal. Chewbacca was much broader than Han and it was almost comfortable. More than almost. His fur was so, so soft and Poe might have snuggled a little against his chest. 

“Chewie,” he said. “Chewie, has anyone ever told you that your fur is like the softest thing that exists? What conditioner do you use? Can I have it? Borrow it? Have it?”

“Kriffing hell,” Han said, while Chewbacca shifted Poe in his arms, his grumbling switching in tone to a mix of pleased gratitude and pride.

Poe wished he was a little less drunk so Chewbacca’s long, rambling answer in Shyriiwook wasn’t so difficult to follow.

-

  1. _Lando_



The good news about having an assignment from the Navy that took him to Bespin was that Poe had an excuse to pop in and see Lando. The bad news was… Well, honestly there wasn’t really any bad news. It was a simple meet, and then Poe had the rest of the night free to spend time with Lando, whom Poe had been fond of since he was a kid who thought Baron Calrissian was just the coolest.

He still thought that, to be honest.

“Now,” Lando was saying as they stood in his rich quarters, “if I’m gonna show you a good time in my city, you need to look the part.”

Poe tugged at his jacket collar, comfortable and worn. He had never much cared what he looked like and honestly, he doubted there was anything in the galaxy that would make him look even half as stylish as Lando, as handsome and poised in his cape and probably silk shirt as he ever was. “Where exactly are you taking me?”

“Somewhere you’ll like, trust me. I’ve just got to dress you properly first.”

Poe looked up at Lando and then down at himself. “I’m not sure your clothes will fit me.”

“Your shirt and pants are okay. Not great, but okay.” Lando eyed Poe before rifling through his walk-in closet and pulling out a cape. “A nice cape fixes a lot of ills. And then… boots,” he said, bending down to retrieve a pair, black, tall, shiny. “No offense but yours have seen better days.”

Poe was still transfixed by the cape. He swung it experimentally around his shoulders after having removed his jacket. “You’re sure about this? I don’t know if I’m really a cape person.”

Lando tutted. “You just needed the right cape, and that, Captain, is absolutely the right cape.”

Moving in front of the mirror, Poe turned from side to side, watching the whirl of the cape, and had to admit it was quite the effect. He felt a little silly but thought he could probably fake the confidence he needed to pull it off. “If you say so.”

“I do.” Lando held out the boots. “Take these.”

“These look like they cost more than my paycheck.”

“That’s because they do. Put them on.”

“Have you got an extra pair of socks?”

Of course Lando had extra socks, and once Poe had gotten the boots on and stood still while Lando fastened his cape, Lando deemed him presentable and they strode out of the residence together. 

Lando was as easy company as Poe remembered, charming and witty and genuinely pleasant to talk to, making Poe think of how much he had idolized him when he was young. He had dreamed of being as effortlessly smooth as Lando.

He supposed that was why he was distracted enough, talking to Lando about a new engine modification he was working on with BB-8, that he was slow to react when there was a collision in the corridor ahead of them that resulted in the smashing of a crate full of what had to be wine. The whole mess crashed down at their feet and Poe had a thought that he really needed to get out of the way before he ruined Lando’s borrowed boots, and maybe even the cape too. Before he could so much as move a toe, he found himself getting swept up, blinking startled eyes into Lando’s face as the edge of his cape hung down.

“Apologies, Baron!” a little Abednedo was saying, but Lando shrugged him off with a smile and a lament at his misfortune, offering a stake at a lower pay-in tables in one of his casinos, before strolling off past the mess with Poe still in his arms.

“Lando,” Poe said, waving back to the Abednedo, “I thought this was dinner, not a seduction.”

Chuckling, Lando said, “Anything is a seduction if you play it right, but your father would have my head. Relax, Poe. I just didn’t want wine all over my best boots.”

Considering that, Poe said, “Actually I think my dad would approve of you.”

Lando grinned.

-

  1. _Holdo_



The heat was what he noticed first, as Poe came to, his vision fuzzy and blurred. He was still strapped into his cockpit but the X-wing was a wreck on the ground, fire blazing. Poe knew that he had to get out before the whole thing went up but as he tried to struggle out, he screamed at the searing pain in his leg, crushed beneath half his console. He feared that his leg was more than simply broken, that the bones had shattered.

“Okay,” he said to himself, blinking back tears, trying to steady his breathing. “Okay. You can do this. You have to do this. You can pass out later.”

He clutched at his mother’s ring, thankfully still hanging around his neck, and heaved himself from the cockpit, very nearly blacking out from pain. He dragged himself free and then collapsed, breathing heavily.

His brain was so fuddled that he just laid there for several long moments, fighting to stay awake, trying to formulate a plan. The communication system in his ship was as busted as the rest of it but he needed to contact the Resistance, needed to get out of here. At least he had his blaster, to defend himself if the First Order found him, but with his bad leg and his probably concussed head, he was nearly useless.

Poe forced himself into more of a seated position, his leg protesting at him, and wished for BB-8. Of all the times to be without his droid.

Then again, maybe BB-8 wouldn’t have survived the crash, and that was unacceptable. Poe would figure this out. Maybe if a stormtrooper found him Poe could get his comlink and reconfigure it to the Resistance’s frequency.

“This is what ejector seats are for, you know.”

“It jammed,” Poe said, an automatic defense, then paused and blinked his eyes at the tall figure approaching him. “Admiral? What are you doing off the  _ Echo of Hope _ ?”

“I was needed.” Vice Admiral Holdo looked dirty and tired but no less regal for it; her hem had dragged through the mud and her hair was frizzing, strands falling around her face, her Gatalentan tiara faintly askew. “Leia would be upset if I let you get killed.”

“I would’ve been okay.”

“Of course you would have.” Holdo touched the back of her hand to Poe’s cheek as she looked him in the eyes. “You blacked out?”

“Just for a little while. Couple seconds. Minute. I don’t know.”

Holdo hummed and as she was crouched down, Poe saw a flash of movement over her shoulder. He fumbled for his blaster but Holdo calmly turned and fired, dropping the errant stormtrooper before he could even aim.

“You can’t walk,” Holdo said, a statement rather than a question, and she slid her arms beneath Poe, lifting him as she straightened. She grunted from the effort but stood tall, Poe in her arms, like he was a child.

Poe groaned at the jarring, his vision going black for a second, in too much discomfort to be as impressed as he dimly thought he should be. Holdo had height on him but Poe knew he wasn’t light; she looked so slim and fragile but she clearly, clearly wasn’t. Holdo cooed at him soothingly and Poe closed his eyes.

“Admiral,” he said. “Admiral, you should probably just leave me.”

“Nonsense,” Holdo said, beginning to walk, her steps carefully slow and even. “You’re too good a pilot to leave behind. Besides, as I said, Leia would be very upset, and I can’t have that.”

“Can’t have that,” Poe agreed, and passed out.

-

  1. _Leia and Rey_



“Dameron,” Leia called as Poe jogged the perimeter, taking advantage of a rare free morning and a clear, breezy day.

“General,” he said, and went over to join her and Rey where they stood near the small garden where Rey trained sometimes, when she wasn’t tending to her greenery. “You needed me?”

“I thought you could help us,” she explained. “Rey’s been given a task, you see.”

“A ridiculous task,” Rey interjected.

“Well, this is my brother we’re talking about.”

Rey inclined her head as though Leia’s comment was perfect logic she couldn’t refute.

“A task?” Poe prompted.

“Lifting things,” Leia said, a faint upward tilt to her mouth.

“As if I haven’t already moved boulders out from a tunnel collapse,” Rey muttered with a huff. “As if he didn’t say the Force was a lot more than lifting rocks.”

“Humor him,” Leia said. “It might be fun.”

“I’m still not sure what this has to do with me,” Poe said, brushing his hair back from his forehead. A few curls stubbornly fell right back.

“You’re our subject of course.” With that, Poe found himself toppling backwards, air beneath his feet, lying nearly flat until Leia moved, catching him in her arms. He settled lightly, and Poe knew she was holding him there with the Force, and it was really fucking impressive.

If a bit awkward.

Rey was smiling now. “That was smooth, General. I’m not sure I have quite so much style.”

“That’s what the training is for.”

As Rey outstretched her hand, Poe found himself moving through the air and he forced himself not to push back against the strange, weightless feeling, the lack of control.

Rey caught and held him as easily as Leia had, and Poe couldn’t help grinning back at her. “You were right, General,” she said. “It is a bit fun.”

“As long as you’re not the one being tossed around like a doll,” Poe said.

“A very pretty doll,” Rey said, still with that wide grin.

“I’ll accept that.” He was startled to glance from Rey’s face to a shadow out of the corner of his eye, which turned out to be the blue-tinged figure of Luke Skywalker, watching them with wry amusement.

“Luke?” Poe gasped, though he was the only one who seemed surprised. He supposed Rey and Leia got to see Force apparitions a lot more than he did.

“That isn’t exactly what I meant,” Luke said.

Rey looked at Poe, then at Leia, then at Luke. “But the general--”

Luke gave his sister a look that landed somewhere between knowing and amused. Leia merely lifted her shoulders in a small shrug. 

“Wait,” Poe said, suddenly suspicious. “General,” he said, and Leia laughed, which was as good as confirmation. “I see what happened here.”

Rey’s bright laughter was so infectious that Poe couldn’t help but join in. It wasn’t like he had had much dignity to begin with, after all.

-

  1. _Kylo Ren and Finn_



Kylo Ren was not supposed to have been there. A lot went wrong on the mission, but that was the big thing. They hadn’t expected him.

His whole freezing blaster bolts and sweeping away blasters thing was annoying, Poe decided. So was the freezing people in place thing.

“Can we not do this again?” Poe asked. “I didn’t much care for your hospitality.”

“Would you prefer I killed you now?”

“Not really, no.”

“Then it looks like we’re at a standstill.”

It was strange, looking at Kylo Ren without his mask. He just looked like Ben Solo and that made Poe feel things he wished he didn’t.

“So what’ve I got that you want this time? No Luke Skywalker. No map.”

“This isn’t a two-way conversation, you ask questions, I give answers. I suppose you’ll find out eventually what I want.” Kylo waved his hand and Poe went uncomfortably limp, as with Leia and Rey, except minus the good-natured fun of it all. Kylo caught him in his arms and lifted him, as effortlessly as Chewbacca, all those years ago.

Poe arched an eyebrow, just about the only part of himself he could move. “Really? This is how you want to play this?”

“You are my prisoner.”

“Feels more like you’re carrying me to our honeymoon.”

Kylo ignored that, instead walking in the direction of his shuttle. The fight looked to be mostly over, bodies on the ground, and Poe was afraid to look at their faces. Had they won? It wouldn’t matter so much, if he got taken, as long as he knew they had won.

Dimly Poe heard shouting behind him, someone frantically calling his name. He struggled in Kylo’s grip but it was like Jakku all over again, straining and sweating in effort with nothing to show for it. “Finn? Finn!”

Then Kylo swept his hand over Poe’s face and he knew nothing more.

-

Poe spent most of his captivity wondering if they had forgotten about him. He got the impression that Kylo hadn’t actually wanted him for anything specific and had merely seen an opportunity it seemed silly to pass up. To irritate his mother, perhaps, or maybe just to irritate Poe. Maybe he thought Poe would be useful for some undetermined reason in the future. Maybe he actually did have a purpose and it just wasn’t clear yet.

Whatever the case was, Poe got left alone more than he had expected.

This had its good points and bad points. Kylo wasn’t ripping into his brain, but mostly everyone forgot he needed to eat. It was difficult to keep track of time but he had been locked up long enough to exhaust every idea for breaking out of his cell several times over. If they remembered to feed him soon, Poe wondered if he’d be able to muster the energy to fight back. At this point, overpowering his captors seemed his best option.

He nearly missed his chance, half out of it and startled when the cell opened and a First Order officer stepped inside. His attempt at taking the guy out fizzled when he slammed against the man only to realize he was face-to-face with Finn.

“Finn?” he gasped, sagging a little.

Finn clutched him, features melting into concern. “Poe! Poe, it’s me, it’s okay, I’m gonna get you out of here. Damn, you look awful.”

Poe couldn’t even muster a witty response. “You came for me.”

“Poe,” Finn said, voice soft. “Of course I did.”

“You’ll get caught, they’ll recognize you, they’ll--”

“It’s okay. Rey is here, too, and Rose. Beebee-Ate. We have a plan. We’ll get you out. Don’t worry.”

“Well, if Beebee-Ate is here, there’s definitely no need to worry,” Poe said, managing a smile that was real. His knees buckled and Finn caught him, hoisting him into his arms with more care than Kylo had.

“This seems familiar,” he said, and Finn rolled his eyes.

“You get into too much trouble.”

“You’re good at rescuing me.” So were other people, it turned out. “I like the uniform. Looks good on you. But maybe not as good as my jacket.”

“Whatever, Poe,” Finn said, and carried him out.

-

_ +1 Hux _

Peace talks were kriffing boring and Poe longed for the days when he was considered unimportant enough to sit out this kind of thing. Put him in a ship and give him a target, those were the days. Honestly he was still unconvinced he was important enough to be here, but here he was nevertheless.

He also doubted it was going to go well, considering they hadn’t managed to blow up General Hux. Instead he was here, with his insufferable pointed face, arguing against everything the Resistance put forward.

When they broke for the evening, everyone frustrated and in need of food, Poe hurried after Hux. “Hey,” he called. “Hey, Hugs.”

As Poe had expected, that was enough to make Hux stop in place, rolling his shoulders back, spine stiffening. His voice was like venom spat out from between his teeth. “Dameron.”

“No need to get huffy,” Poe said with a smile. “I was only thinking, we’d make for a hilarious but charming propaganda photoshoot. You know, the two of us sitting down for tea, me clasping your shoulder as we walk down the street, you carrying me over a puddle. ‘Heroes of the Resistance and the First Order find common ground,’ that sort of thing.”

Hux thinned his lips. “Hilarious.”

“I thought so. We could, I don’t know, fake a relationship for the peace talks. Show that if we can get along, surely everyone can! Right?”

“That seems implausible.”

“Sure, and also I’d hate it. Just idle thoughts, you know? Gets boring in there.”

“I expect that means you don’t belong.”

“Oh, I know I don’t,” Poe said, shrugging off Hux’s obvious attempt to insult him. “I miss my cockpit.”

Hux’s sneer took on a faintly amused tilt.

“So I guess this means you don’t want to stage something? The carrying me thing has merit, I thought.”

“You’re insane.”

“Yeah, probably. Maybe you think you can’t?” Poe let his gaze flick down Hux’s body and back up. “You’re pretty scrawny. Spent a lot of time ordering people around instead of getting into things yourself. Maybe you can’t do it.”

Hux took a step closer to him. “I could if I wanted to.”

Poe hummed doubtfully. “I’m just saying, Kylo could carry me fine. Didn’t even break a sweat.”

There was an extended pause as Hux very obviously took the measure of Poe, very obviously fuming as he did so, his pale cheeks flushed.

He did, however, take the bait.

For whatever reason, Poe had become something of an expert on getting carried around by people. Hux, to say the least, was among the most graceless of all those experiences. Poe had clearly been onto something with his teasing as Hux struggled to get the right leverage, finally heaving Poe into his arms and standing up straight with a grunt.

“You should consider dieting,” he said.

“That’s rude, Hugs,” Poe said, and then found himself landing on his ass on the floor. He swore and looked back up at Hux, getting the distinct impression that that had been entirely on purpose.

A dim part of his brain was whispering,  _ yeah, I probably deserved that. _

Hux smirked down at him and then turned on his heel.

“Rude,” Poe repeated into the empty air.

**_End_ **


End file.
